“Five thousand pounds! Mrs. Harrington!” The lady’s delicately gloved hand gently rose and fell. “And this poor young man”—she pursued.
“My son will have to pay it, my lady.”
For a moment the lady had not a word to instance. Presently she remarked: “But, Mrs. Harrington, he is surely under no legal obligation?”
“He is only under the obligation not to cast disrespect on his father’s memory, my lady; and to be honest, while he can.”
“But, Mrs. Harrington! surely! what can the poor young man do?”
“He will pay it, my lady.”
“But how, Mrs. Harrington?”
“There is his father’s business, my lady.”
His father’s business! Then must the young man become a tradesman in order to show respect for his father? Preposterous! That was the lady’s natural inward exclamation. She said, rather shrewdly, for one who knew nothing of such things: “But a business which produces debts so enormous, Mrs. Harrington!”
The widow replied: “My son will have to conduct it in a different way. It would be a very good business, conducted properly, my lady.”